This Is The Best Day Ever
by TheOneYouCallWe
Summary: Some things you can’t erase. Some things you don’t even want to. BoothxBrennan. Inspired by episode ‘The Critic in the Cabinet.’ On semi-permanent hiatus.
1. Prologue: Lirona

This Is The Best Day Ever

Summary: Some things you can't erase. Some things you don't even want to. BoothxBrennan. Inspired by episode 'The Critic in the Cabinet.' On semi-permanent hiatus.

Ramblings: I began this story around May of this year. I have four chapters written, so about 1 chapter each month. I was planning on not uploading it until I was done, but since it is now on a hiatus, I thought 'why not?'

Rambings2: Months later…anyways, _**this is on hiatus until I: A. Get hold of episode 25, B. Get the season on DVD, or C. FOX loads the episode back up. **_Otherwise, you're stuck and I'm screwed. Or vice-versa.

Ramblings3: [more of a rant, but whatever] _I DO NOT READ OTHER BONES FICS. IF OTHER PEOPLE ARE MAKING BABYGIRL!BOOTHXBRENNAN FICS, I DON'T KNOW ABOUT 'EM. SO SHUT. THE FUCK. UP ALREADY! _Also, BONES fans are generally pompous assholes with their noses so far backwards, their heads are in the asses. I think it's a FOX thing. _AND STOP FUCKING FLAMING ME. GROW UP. _

Warnings: ObviouslyOOC!Brennan. My IQ is, obviously, not as high as hers. Inspired by episode 'The Critic in the Cabinet'…minus the brain tumor.

* * *

Prologue: Lirona

"Parker, meet Lirona." Booth is smiling brightly, joy shining in his eyes. He glances over to the baby's mother, who scoffs half-heartedly and looks away, but she too, is hiding a smile. Parker looks between them curiously, before glancing to the month-old bundle before him. The bundle shifts slightly and cries. Booth laughs a little when Parker is alarmed, before moving the bundle just a little bit closer to his son. "Lirona is your half-sister. Bones…" he moves his eyes over to the beautiful red-haired brunette**1** beside him, then looks back at his six year-old son, "is her mother."

Parker's eyebrows screw together in confusion, as if trying to understand just how the little bundle could be his sister when his own mother (Rachel) didn't _look_ pregnant recently. In innocent curiosity, he looks back up at his—and Lirona's father, and without hesitation asks, "Daddy, how do people make babies?"

Booth splutters momentarily, his dark eyes as wide as saucers, while Brennan just grins and giggles to herself. Her eyes are kind, not at all as cold as she sometimes appears, and she tells him, "Your father will explain the process of intercourse to you when you have reached an acceptable age in our society, Parker."

"…what?"

She sighs, but without any real conviction behind it. "Booth'll tell you when you're older." The blonde boy nods, then turns back to the small, softly crying bundle that is a baby. "She's so tiny…was I like that, Daddy?" Booth smiles in that loving, fatherly way that makes Brennan's empirical heart flutter just a bit. He tells the boy, "A long time ago, you were."

"But you weren't, were you, Daddy? You've always been really, really strong, right?"

"Nope, Parker. Once upon a time, even I was as small as she is, and so was Bones. I had to work really, _really_ hard to get as tough as I am now—and so can you one day, so long as you eat right, work hard, and always stand up for what's right." Parker's head cocks to the side, and Bones is (moderately) surprised to find that her motherly instinct—the fierce, protective hold she carries over her own child, has extended to Parker. Her expression shifts an unnoticeable inch, only just barely noticing Parker playing with his half-sister one last time, before returning to Rebecca. She calls a goodbye when Booth ever-so carefully gives her daughter—her _daughter,_ her own living, breathing daughter, that is an amazing and phenomenal combination of simple DNA strands twining together, skin forming over muscle forming over bones; that is her and Booth together—back into her arms, and smiling softly, genuinely. Her focus is not breached or broken, but shifts to him, and then to Parker, and she yells a goodbye.

She almost does not notice when the boy yells to her that he loves her.

As Rebecca drives away with the first of Booth's children, he is standing beside her, hands in pockets, and a cocky grin on his face. He's nervous, and she knows this. He glances to her, then motions to the standard FBI-issue van, as if embarrassed somewhat.

"Booth, is there something troubling you?"

He stops abruptly, and Brennan temporarily coos to her daughter to quiet her. He looks back at them, nervous again, then turns around to face the woman he by-proxy impregnated and the child that stemmed from it. He shuffles on his feet for just a moment longer, then sighs and offers to hold the little girl.

He pretends he does not notice Bones' tender, loving smile at Lirona, and also at him.

* * *

**1. **I cannot for the life of me, pick one definitive hair color for Brennan—in artificial light and shade, it's a mid-dark brunette, but in natural light, it's a red so bright it can outshine even the most Irish of people. So, combine 'em.


	2. Chapter 1: Ambrosette

This Is The Best Day Ever

Summary: Some things you can't erase. Some things you don't even want to. BoothxBrennan. Based on episode 'The Critic in the Cabinet.'

Ramblings: Started immediately after the first chapter. This is actually pretty fun, y'know? I mean, it's intensely hard for me to try and properly characterize them, but, eh.

Notes: ObviouslyOOC!Brennan. My IQ is not as high, so please try and be open about it. My first Bones fic.

* * *

Chapter 1: Ambrosette

"It's just sperm." Brennan shrugged half-noncomittally, "You'd be a very good donor, potentially." She is eyeing Booth in an odd and not-so-foreign way, yet it barely registers in the recesses of his shell-shocked mind. He blurts out, "Me?" his voice rising on the end of his note. Surprisingly, he feels only mildly shocked, but subconsciously overreacts. "But you need to be tested, of course." She says, and amazingly, doesn't sound condescending in the slightest. He tries to respond, but they are both—or rather, all three of the, including Sweets, left rather speechless. Bones is casual and content, as always; Sweets is curious, studying, with that annoying 'let's experiment with these frail humans' emotions' look psychologists always get, and Booth? Well, Booth really just wants to put his head through a wall right now.

Thankfully, they are all saved a small amount of embarrassment by the sound of Booth's phone. Just as he is pulling it out of his pocket, Brennan just _has_ to make it awkward again, saying "Wait, is something _wrong?"_ Her voice accentuates words carefully, still with a relaxed and casual tone that really and truly, starts to piss Booth off.

Huffing slightly, he holds the phone at a distance and says, in a slightly loud voice, "Yeah, okay; you don't just go around asking for people's _sperm."_ Speaking in a way that portrays his embarrassment at her _very_ forward attitude. Sighing again, he picks the phone up to his ear, only half-listening to his rather…disgusting instructions, and reassuring that no, he was _not_ referring to his commander's sperm in the slightest.

Ew.

Hurriedly, he attempts to rush Brennan out of the session, wishing with all of his strength that for once, she would not say anything, not be so…_forward_ and damned blunt, and that they had never _ever_ opted for therapy for partners. (Of course, he completely disregards any wish of "if only we weren't partners;" no, Booth could _never_ live with that). Finally catching on to Booth's nervousness, she contends to them rushing out, not hearing Booth's whispered accusation, claiming to Sweets, "This was all _your_ fault," or Sweets' cut-off answer.

**_ooooooo_**

Later, she tries instead to rationalize with him. "You're the one that's always touting _parenthood,"_ he loves how she accents the word so childishly, "saying that my life is incomplete because I don't have a _child."_ She sounds so much like a pre-teen whining, he has to hide the snicker behind a frustrated, quiet response.

However, she is _still_ acting like a child, and says, all too childishly, "Hm, well perhaps you don't want to help me." She eyes him sideways, hiding a devious smirk that he contends to, just slightly. Muttering, he says, "Of course I do."

"So you'll do it?" She is so hopeful, but still, he must try to put the brakes on her insanity just slightly; however, the guilt of likely causing her marginal sadness does not escape him.

"I'll think about it." He already knows that he has, indeed, agreed, to her lack of common sense, but he is a stubborn mule that will kick and fight, even if he already agreed.

"What? I don't understand; it's a simple _request,"_ more of an order, he thinks, "I'm sure you engage in masturba—" Now thoroughly disturbed, he cuts her off in the middle of her tangent, only slightly annoyed at her random game response. Angrily (but not _too_ angry), he commands in a firm voice, _"Enough,_ okay? We'll talk about it later." He grumbles to himself. Unfortunately, Brennan has good hearing and loudly opts to respond.

She sighs in frustration. "Well, I'm not asking for you to be _involved,"_ she has already caught on to his discomfort with using the word 'sex' openly, "all I want is your sperm!" And she says it, in front of a Jeffersonian colleague, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Booth laughs it off in front of the nameless Jeffersonian worker, trying hard to keep his reputation in tact. He says with a much-exaggerated tone, "All I want is your _sperm!"_ He tries to get Bones in on it, but she is, of course, unfamiliar with societal norms. "I don't get it."

Deciding that yes, it was completely in vain to try and brush off the odd comment, he just grumbles and says to the worker, "Just close your mouth and point us to the body, okay?" Basically, a not-so-subtle threat of 'say anything and I will kick you in the mouth.' Thankfully, the worker takes it to heart. "The barrel's over here." He sounds frustrated but that's to be expected when you have a high IQ and think anyone with a lesser IQ is garbage.

Booth sways and dances somewhat, appearing all too casual for a scene like this. Of course, his attitude is dropped abruptly when the lid of the former-wine is lifted, revealing chunks of flesh, and thick red…_goo_ and deciding that yeah, I should stay back so I don't throw up, he simply says, _"Woah."_ He turns away from the finding, knowing that, no matter _what_ the winemaker said, the thing in there was definitely a human.

Instincts, baby. Instincts.

He stomach turning somewhat, he pointedly fixates on the concerned winemaker—concerned for possible _lawsuits,_ that is—and begins to interrogate him in a not-so-subtle fashion.

"And _you _are?"

"Uh, Sean Mortenson. This is my winery," he is panicky and anxious, caring more about getting rid of the_…stuff_ in the barrel than solving a murder, "and this is Bruce Hanover, my viticulturalist." Booth may not know the exact definition, but he _does_ understand its meaning. The viticulturalist looks shady, and almost ashamed—but that could be contributed to the fact that there's a dead body in their former-wine. He begins trying to argue with Brennan about the impossibility of a dead body coming into a wine casket.

"The remains _are_ human." She's smiling to the…Sean-dude, as if this is a good thing, and Booth just rolls his eyes at her lack of barriers, examining a circa-1960's wine bottle. He turns when the viti-whatever tries arguing with her as well, knowing that it was very much impossible to win an argument against Bones. "Exposure to air turned the wine to vinegar," she continues, and Booth can't help but butt in.

"Looks like a purple Smurf." Amazingly, she doesn't chide on his random comment, instead simply ignoring it. "Pelvic bone indicates a male…" she is gripping the thing tightly, but there is still sludge coming off of it, and Booth is very, _very_ grateful for not eating breakfast today. However, he notices something (that she did as well), and he points out half-jokingly, "Look like a _rubber_ purple Smurf."

"Bones in vinegar leach calcium and will become gelatinous within three days." She bends and pulls at what was once a solid pelvic bone, and Booth's inner jock kicks in.

"Now _that_ is actually cool." And although she does not say so, or show it, he knows that she agrees.

"This cask is filled with debris, decomposed tissue, and organs. It all has to come back to the lab." She makes a point of glancing pointedly in his direction, knowing that he absolutely _hates_ it when his FBI grunts have to carry tons of stuff back to the Jeffersonian. He stifles a grumble of frustration. He turns to her, watching with disinterest as she pulls an ooze-covered skull out of the gunk, getting a sadistic pleasure out of hearing the Viti-something and Sean almost lose their brunch at the sight.

Although he has to admit, it is pretty damned disgusting—and even Bones has to agree.

**_ooooooo_**

It is quiet in the large, standard FBI SUV; Bones is simply staring out the window, likely going through complicated possible processes of the victim's death, and Booth is just glad for her not bringing up _that_ topic. She glances at him unnoticeably, and returns to the window. Her gloves have been trashed and incinerated, and she is finally back in real clothes, with no bloody body chunks stuck to her. Sighing, she raises her pale hands in mid-air, simply gazing at them, going through the many hundreds of bones in her body, let alone her hand.

"If it's a girl, I want to name her Ambrosette."

Oh hell, she's still on about that.

"What, like the word 'ambrosia'? No; no way. Even if I consented my…sperm," he sighs awkwardly, subconsciously covering his mouth with his hand, muttering it just slightly "which I haven't decided on yet, I am _not_ having my little girl named after some Greek Goddess." He knows that he is off in its meaning, anticipating Brennan's very likely response.

"Well in fact, ambrosia was considered to be the drink and food of the mythical gods, providing them with everlasting life, which is of course, impossible." She shrugs noncommittally, and says to herself quietly, not at all counting on Booth's trained hearing, "It's a nice thought, nonetheless."

"What, so it's like, a lucky name?" He has one hand on the steering wheel, and another in his hair, pulling at the strands. Really and truly, he can't believe they're actually talking about something like this—names for a very likely child between them. She glares at him sharply, then returns to staring out the window. "Was I not supposed to hear you say that or something?" Amazingly, he is still able to drive fairly sanely, even with one hand on the wheel, and no eyes on the road, only on Brennan. He is making hand gestures, like he always does, and rather amused at her teenage attitude resurfacing. He scoffs aloud to himself, imagining her pout. "Okay, you know what? Fine!" He growls somewhat, returning back to glaring out of the window, not noticing Bones' amused and wry smile reflecting in the window.


End file.
